Changing Before Change
by InFactIt'sAmazing
Summary: When Mrs. Lovett decides move the beggar woman away from her shop in pure annoyance, Something happens that she must have the beggar killed. Rated T for suggestive stuff and blood/gore.


Nellie Lovett had just finished baking the most tedious meat pie out of her whole selection-Priest. It was a great favorite amongst her devoted customers, and in Mrs. Lovett's eyes, anything was everything for her customers. She hummed as she finished preparing the greasy dish, watching the windows in the corner of her eye. After a final dash of shredded meat, she stood back and examined her work. _The meat pie is nasty and fattening; and nobody should eat it twice,_ She thought to herself. _But I'll have to say that it is a pie that will please anyone who will eat it and that's good enough for me. _Then suddenly, the familiar grey figure she had been watching for in the windows appeared. Mrs. Lovett frowned deeply, and strode over to the window. She stopped sharply, and watched. The grey figure was a beggar, and if you looked closely you could tell it was a woman. She ran amok on the cobblestone street, sometimes pausing in front of men with stovepipe hats or women fancily dressed. Mrs. Lovett scoffed to herself, feeling shame that such a disaster such as this commoner was even near her shop. She watched as people pushed the beggar out of their way and watched even when the woman sat down on the sidewalk and did not move. But Mrs. Lovett knew she was alive. And Nellie was afraid of her.

"Mista T?" Mrs. Lovett had caught Sweeney in a good mood, at least for him. He was busy wiping and brushing off his chair, which was covered in blood and facial hair. "What is it." His clear, cold tone rang through the room like the morning church bells. "Well, I am...Just going into town, you see. I just wanted to see if ya needed any-" "All I want, Mrs. Lovett, is a certain judge in my seat." He waved her off, his face straight and ready for the next customer. Mrs. Lovett sighed to herself, and walked back down to her pie shop. On the way down, she ran into Toby. "Morning Missus." He beamed underneath the dirt and grime. "Mornin' Toby, love. Do me a favor, will you? Wotch over the cash register. I'm just heading into town for a bit." She began to walk further down. "Oh, love, do you want anything?" Toby shook his head slowly, deep in thought. "Be careful, Miss. There are people in our world." Mrs. Lovett smiled halfheartedly. "Indeed there is, Toby." She left promptly after that, quickly gathering up her traveling cloak and warmer gloves in the shop. The skies, although always dull and gray from the smog of factories, was considerably darker than usual. "Snow storms a comin'." She told herself quietly, bundling up. "Best be quick." She opened the door to her empty shop, hear the _creak_ and _clang_ of another customer being served, and shut it. The street of Fleet was busy for noon, as it usually was. But Mrs. Lovett had live here for many years and she knew the direction. I never knew I'd have to come to this. She bit her lip as she fought her way to the location. It took little time, with the exception of fighting through crowds, but Mrs. Lovett appeared at the doorstep of a normal looking brick building. Two large men stood guarding the doorway. Mrs. Lovett cleared her voice and spoke to the one on the left. "I would like to speak with Mr. Peters." The guard looked to his companion, and turned back to her. "State your business." He barked. It was a busy day on Fleet Street, full of hundreds of people. But her response seemed to quiet everyone. "Disposal." She said timidly. The guard grinned devilishly, and opened the door to the home. "Enjoy yourself." She could hear them laugh as the door was shut on her. She shivered in fear and cold. The insides of the building were bright and comfortable, with the heaters boiling. There was a long hallway with doors on each side, and needless to say, the business inside the doors was clearly heard. Mrs. Lovett walked slowly, reading each door's nameplate. The door she was looking for was third from the last, and Lovett regained her composure and knocked. It took a few seconds, but finally a voice called out. "Come in!" Mrs. Lovett gripped the door knob and swung it open gently. Behind the door was Kingsley Peters, a notorious man with a bad temper and good looks. He sat behind a mahogany desk, and a scarcely dressed woman sat in his lap, smoking a cigarette. "Sitddown, Sitddown." He motioned to a chair. Lovett did as told, and immediately began to speak in her confidant manor, just as she did the day Mr. T had came into her shop. Secretly, Lovett was scared out of her wits. "Are you the man who runs removal services?" She asked; her arms tightly bonded together. "Aye. Whatta want me for?" Before she could reply, He shoved the woman off of him, whispering something in her ear before she ran off gigging. "I have a beggar-" She swallowed. "I have a beggar woman disrupting my shop." He nodded, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "A beggar is the easiest to remove. Nobody misses a nobody. Do'yah know 'er or his name?" Mrs. Lovett had expected this and practiced for it. Lying easily, "I've no idea who the woman is, but I can't get a decent customer in myah door without the poor thing beggin' for some change. I just need her gone forever." Mr. Peters licked his lips. "Well, Miss-" He stopped. "Lovett, Sir."


End file.
